


My True Love Gave to Me

by bluphacelia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A second of Angst, Alternate Universe, Cats, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluphacelia/pseuds/bluphacelia
Summary: "Have a good nap, beautiful?" Keith whispers. Lance chuckles, hands coming to wrap around Keith's forearms, sliding up to his biceps and curling up and up. They tug him down and he let's it happen—The apartment shakes from a harsh impact as something large crashes to the ground, partially covered by an angry yowl from the other room.--Or my excuse to write domestic fluff for the holidays. I hope y'all have a good one!





	My True Love Gave to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleapyGazelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapyGazelle/gifts).



> Happy Holidays everyone! A bit of early holiday cheer in your inbox. 
> 
> Written originally for [sleapy](https://sir-klancelot.tumblr.com/) for a secret santa exchange!

Squinting, Keith adjusts the laptop screen in front of him to minimize the glare as the mid afternoon sun shines through the blinds.

"Keith! Come help me!" The shout filters through the small crack in the door. Keith groans and pushes his laptop open wider, eyes not straying from the tiny letters of the paper he's trying to read. He really wishes he'd had the time to print it out earlier.

"I helped you get the tree! I have to finish this tonight!" He half turns his head to call out, still focusing on his reading, as he continues jotting down notes the best he can, not fully processing the grumblings from the other room. The rustling and chatter from the other room falls away and his world grows small and focused.

Light slants down the middle of the room, a red-orange glow that strains his eyes. He groans, pops his back and closes the lid of the laptop with an audible click before getting up.

He moves to the door, flicks the light switch on and stops. "Lance?" he calls out, confused, but the apartment echos silence.

Keith glances into the living room/kitchen combo—open concept was all the rage, he can hear Lance say in the back of his mind—and he sees the Christmas tree standing in the corner by the dining room table. It flaunts an array of ornate orbs in all the colors of the rainbow and white fairy lights twinkle through the branches. He blinks, but can't stop the slow smile from creeping up onto his lips. He clears his throat and schools his expression, before he does something terribly awful like taking a picture, eyes swinging to the closed door.

"Lance?" he calls out and walks up to open the bedroom door. He feels the whisk of gray pass by his ankles as the cat scampers out of the room. He ignores it and steps inside to the dim glow of sunset.

He feels his chest constrict as his eyes fall on his boyfriend. Even after all these years he sometimes forgets that Lance is his, truly his, and he has to take a breath to settle himself. The other man is currently curled up in their bed, long legs tugged close to his chest, snug under the small blanket they'd received from his mother the year before. 

Keith steps forward, door swinging closed as he tiptoes to the bed. It sinks down a bit as he sits, hand hesitating over Lance's side. He looks tired, even in sleep, eyes scrunched up a bit, the darkness under his eyes apparent in the soft light. It was clear that the long days at the hospital were taking their toll. There goes the old stab of guilt as his mind goes back to the tree—but he stops, breathless as those ocean blue eyes open for him.

"Ready?" Lance mutters, eyes slipping closed again.

"Yeah, I finished," Keith confirms, hand slipping over Lance's arm, then over his chest to the other side until he's propped up, leaning over him.

"Good," Lance sighs and opens his eyes again. He his back arches as he stretches, arms arcing over his head.

"Have a good nap, beautiful?" Keith whispers. Lance chuckles, hands coming to wrap around Keith's forearms, sliding up to his biceps and curling up and up. They tug him down and he let's it happen—

The apartment shakes from a harsh impact as something large crashes to the ground, partially covered by an angry yowl from the other room.

"Snookums!"

"The cat!"

The moment breaks with the fall and they rush to the living room, but it's already too late. The tree is on the ground, ornamental globes shattered on the carpet. Their eyes fall on the gray feline, licking her paw a good two feet away from the chaos, seemingly unhurt or unphased by the destruction she'd caused.

"Why'd you let her out of the bedroom," Lance moans as he sinks to his knees to pull the cat into his arms. She resists for a moment, before sulkily accepting the caress, giving Keith a look that spelled out something akin to—how could you let this happen?

"How was I supposed to know that the cat would—never mind," Keith grumbles and steps toward the tree. The trunk is split near the top, leaving the seven foot beauty a five foot stump with the top hanging in an awkward angle against a chair.

"Don't go walking around there with bare feet!" Lance yells, hand catching the back of Keith's shirt. They stumble, angry cat clutched between them.

"I was just taking a look! I wasn't going to walk straight into the glass. I'm not stupid!" 

"Your actions speak louder than words, idiot!"

The anger rises and then falls as Lance slips the cat back into the bedroom. She yowls in protest, and again to be let out as the door closes; but they ignore her as they start cleaning up the destruction the best they can.

It's full dark by the time they finish, two large trash bags waiting by the door to be taken out, the tree nothing more than firewood.

"I'm going to bed," Lance declares into the silence and slips into the bedroom, leaving Keith alone. Something nudges his foot and the cat curls around his ankles as she purrs.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Keith mutters, but relents, sitting down hard on the ground. He groans as the cat climbs onto his lap and true to form, she bats his hand away as he tries to stroke her head.

Keith's eyes go back to the Christmas tree holder, the one Lance had bought not twenty-four hours before, excited for their first weekend off together in what seemed like months. Christmas was just around the corner. He'd been so excited.

"I should have come help with the tree," Keith tells the cat. She purrs in agreement as he scratches her stomach. "He's pissed—at the both of us. No, don't give me that innocent look. You're the one who destroyed the tree. But, I guess I should have left the rest of the paper for Monday. It's just I want everything to be done by the end of the week. That way we'll have our two weeks without anything to worry about."

The cat nuzzles his hand and his eyes go back to the garbage bags. The top of the ex-Christmas tree peeks out.

Keith stands, tries to get the gray cat hairs off his sweats, but failing that, he gets to work.

* * *

Keith wakes up to a scream, not the full out terrified scream, but one of those half confused startled ones. He pushes the cat off from her perch near his shoulder and sits up. It'd been awhile since he'd fallen asleep on the couch, wanting to give Lance the rest he needed for his early shifts. It's still dark out and the clock on the mantle confirms it's only past five.

Lance stands at the bedroom door, still in his bathrobe, the blue contrasting nicely against his skin—not that Keith is looking.

"You like it?" Keith asks as he leans his shoulder against the couch, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

"I—" Lance seems at a loss for words as he gestures at the small tree on top of their dining room table. It held the broken top of the ex-tree. Keith had salvaged what he could, finding the few unbroken decorations along with a single strand of fairy lights that he'd wrapped around the tiny green fir tree the best he was able.

"I'm sorry I didn't help you with the tree." Keith stands up and walks over to Lance who opens up his arms, pulling him close. Keith rests his forehead against his shoulder, sleep still tugging at his senses.

"I can't believe you did that?" Lance murmurs, half question, half statement, and then slips out of their semi-hug. He walks to the tree, flicking the lights on, and leans over the table as the small fairy lights twinkle through the branches.

"I can't believe you did this." There is a degree of wetness to his words that startle Keith. "I know you don't care about Christmas like I do, but—" His words end in a teary chuckle.

"I mean. It was the least I could—"

"I wish I could just marry you."

Keith feels the blood drain from his face. His fingers tingle and the cold sweat clinging to his back makes him swallow.

"What?" He knows he looks startled as he meets Lance's eyes. Lance's face is red and he's shaking his head as though that would take the words he'd spoken away.

"I mean—I mean I didn't mean—" The words are disjointed and Lance panics. Keith can see it, the fight or flight instincts clear on his stupidly handsome face.

"Stay there," he commands and gives Lance a look before fleeing into his study—their study.

He rummages through his desk and swallows the rest of his trepidation as he walks back to the living room. Lance is sitting on a chair, cat mewling at his feet, but he's ignoring her, hands clenched to fists and—he springs up.

"I know you don't like that sort of thing. Being tied down or whatever. Just forget I said anything," Lance bursts out. He's visibly shaking, nervous and so close to crumbling Keith is having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

"Here," he says instead, handing over the small envelope he'd gotten in the mail two weeks ago.

"What's this?" Lance frowns and he takes it, hands still shaking as he opens it. He looks up, confused.

"Open it." Keith shrugs and crosses his arms.

Lance shakes the envelope and two simple gold bands, tied together with a red ribbon fall out.

"I had my grandma send them to me. We'll need to get them readjusted but—they belonged to my parents. If you don't like them we can just buy new ones. I just though—" The words die on his lips as Lance falls back into the chair, sobbing.

"Or we don't have to! I don't want to assume anything! I just thought you'd like—"

"You're so STUPID!" Lance sobs over his words and Keith falls silent.

"Probably?" Keith admits after a moment and takes a hesitant step forward. The envelope slips to the floor as Lance pulls him forward, tears soaking into Keith's shirt as he pats Lance's shoulder, still not quite sure if he'd majorly fucked up.

"I can't believe..." The words are muffled, but the crying seems to have halted. For now.

"Is this okay?" Keith asks. He'd planned to give them to Lance on Christmas, but—

He's pushed away just far enough for Lance to jump up, chair clattering behind him as he flings his hands around his neck.

"I'm gonna be so late to work," he sobs into Keith's neck, tears flowing anew as he clings to the back of his already ruined shirt.

"So—?" Keith wraps his arms around Lance. "Is that a yes?"

"You're so stupid. A dumbass. Brute. Idiot. Insensitive," Lance mutters into the crook of his neck.

"I guess?" Keith takes a breath and pulls free, hands going to Lance's cheeks, wiping away the wet. His eyes are a dull blue, red and puffy from crying and he's never looked more beautiful in Keith's eyes. "Well?"

"Of course. I mean—I'm the one who—" Keith stops him with a kiss. It tastes of salt and the mint of their toothpaste and he can feel his own eyes sting.

"Happy Christmas," Keith whispers as they break away. Lance hiccups and pulls him closer. Keith sighs and holds him tight. "You're the best gift I could have asked for."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://bluphacelia.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/blu_tweets). 
> 
> I'd also love prompts if anyone wants to throw me one, my inbox is always open!


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